According to Plan
by Angela3
Summary: Ginny has a brilliant plan to finally win Harry's affections...or does she? Unexpected consequences prove that things never go according to plan. A lot of confusion, a little bit of romance, a dash of humor, and a bit of mystery. Fun for everyone!
1. PrologueTeaser

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Note:** This is my first D/G fic and I'm really excited about it. Draco's a delicious little jackass, isn't he? I hope the banter between him and Ginny is amusing...I love witty dialogue almost as much as I love good smut.

Prologue/Teaser

Somehow, things never worked out the way Ginny Weasley hoped they would. Years of poverty and hand-me-downs had left her accustomed to disappointment to the point where she no longer concerned herself with the material goods her fellow sixth-years obsessed over, was not longer very hurt by the ocassional sting of a bad grade or a romantic liason gone sour. Really, there wasn't much she allowed herself to desire in life, knowing that most yearnings would likely be left unfufilled.

Yet even the most selfless of people have their longings, and at the top of Ginny Weasley's wish list was something she had wanted since she was a little girl, something admired and coveted for years now. As of yet it had alluded her, but it was the one thing she promised herself that she deserved, the one thing she refused to give up on. It was also one of the least attainable, because Harry Potter (the object of said affections), remained completely oblivious to her existance.

Oh, of course they knew each other well enough. Of course they talked, laughed, played Quidditch, and celebrated holidays in each other's company. He was her closet brother's best friend, after all. Yet Ginny realized dismally how often his green eyes seemed to look right through her and past her, never thinking of her in a context beyond the dreaded trench of friendship they'd fallen into. Worst of all, she feared that because her parents had taken him in as a son, he must see her as no more than a little sister.

It was time to take some rather drastic action. There was no place at the Burrow for coquettish behavior or revealing attire -- her brothers would tease her mercilessly if they suspected her game and her mother would scold her relentlessly for dressing too provocatively. That left the grounds of Hogwarts, free from her parents sheltering and with only the careless Ron to supervise her actions.

Desperation had led Ginny to the most outrageous idea she'd ever had. After weeks of deliberation, she had hatched a plan. It was a risky plan, a stupid plan, a crazy plan. But if it failed to work, nothing would.

Gathering her courage, she stepped out from the shadows of the hall leading to the Slytherin common room.

"Draco, wait," she called. "I need your help."


	2. Chapter 1: A Modest Proposal

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Note: **My version of Draco is true-to-form: he's not very nice. But that's what makes him fun, right? Beware...this relationship isn't going to be sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. Why? Because I like my Draco a little bit naughty... ;)

Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy turned, disbelieving his own ears. Yet unless his eyes betrayed him, it was indeed the youngest Weasley who had addressed him so boldly, with a recklessness and surprising lack of fear in her voice that unwittingly made him feel a sudden, disconcerting respect for her. He recovered almost immediately, quickly remembering his vast superiority to this little redheaded pauper, and snapped at her as soon as he had regained her bearings.

"What the hell are you doing at Slytherin Tower?"

"I just told you," she said. "I need your help."

Draco stared at her incredulously, searching her face for some kind of clue that she might be joking with him. "Have you gone nutters?" he asked finally. "I mean, I always knew you Weasleys were batty, hanging out with Mudbloods and all, but this really takes the cake." He looked around quickly, as if to make sure none of his housemates were nearby. It wouldn't do to be seen talking to a Weasley unless he started insulting her more blatantly. In his mind, he riffled through the various affronts he could direct towards her, looking for something a bit more creative than the standard mockery of her inferior social standing. He scowled as he realized for the first time that he couldn't reasonably call her ugly; at best he could point out her flame-red hair or the fact that she was a bit on the short side, and those comments would merely seem inane. He was rapidly becoming very irritated by her disturbance of his Thursday evening.

"Can we go somewhere to talk?" she asked, ignoring his insult towards her family. "This might take awhile."

"I don't have all bloody night to waste," he scoffed haughtily.

"Give me 10 minutes," she said. He scowled.

"Please," she added reluctantly, averting her gaze.

He had to surpress a smirk, relishing the desperation that must have led her to seek his aid, resolving that whatever assistance he might decide to give would have to be begged and pleaded for.

"Well, let's get on with it then," he said begrudgingly. "I'll meet you out in the gardens in five minutes."

"Why don't we just go together?" she asked.

He looked at her again in disbelief. "Are you joking? Someone might see us."

"And?"

"And I have a reputation to uphold," he said cruelly.

"Oh, fine," she huffed, biting her tongue to keep from lashing out at him but unable to repress the anger blazing in her gaze. "I'll be waiting," she said, and marched off down the stairs.

"For God's sake, what took you so long? You said five minutes!" It was late October and fifteen minutes waiting in the brisk evening breeze had left a very perturbed Ginny chilled to the bone.

Draco shrugged, completely unconcerned. "I had things to do."

"Like what, file your nails?" she asked, irritation evident in her voice.

"Like none of your business," he said, shooting her a glare. "You should bloody well be glad I'm humoring you at all." He neglected to mention the inner debate he'd had over whether or not to meet her after all, his curiosity eventually overcoming him. The knowledge that he could simply laugh in her face and humiliate her if her favor proved too ridiculous was a small comfort. And if he were feeling particularly malevolent, he could broadcast her desperation to the entirity of Hogwarts. With these thoughts, he had made his way almost eagerly to their rendez-vous.

"Well, let's have it," he said impatiently. "I have things to do, you know."

He couldn't be sure in the dark, but he thought he saw her roll her eyes. "Sit," she commanded, pointing to a small stone bench nearby.

"Watch who you're bossing, Weasley," he snapped, obeying nonetheless. "I could buy your entire family if I wanted to."

"We're not for sell," she grumbled.

"More's the pity -- I could use a decent maid," he said coolly, continuing before she could reply, "but enough with the small talk. What's this all about, anyway?"

She took a deep breath. "Well, it's about me, of course," she said. "Me and Harry, actually."

Draco lept to his feet at the mention of his archenemy. "Christ in a sidecar, you really are nutters," he said. "If you think I'm going to do anything to help Scarhead --"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," she said, annoyed. "If this works, it'll make Harry really unhappy. And that's pretty much your raison d'être, isn't it?"

"Excuse me?"

Ginny sighed. "Nevermind," she said. "My point is that you should be able to get your jollies out of this."

Always one for a cheap thrill, Draco reclaimed his seat. "I'm listening," he said tentatively, feeling vaguely curious.

"I guess you know that I fancy Harry, right?"

"Yeah, you fancy the pants off him," Draco laughed condescendingly. "Barking mad, this one," he added in a lower voice, as if making a personal note of it.

"And there's no one Harry hates worse than you," she said. "Well, except maybe Bellatrix Lestrange, or Peter Pettigrew...or Snape, of course...Anyway, I'm pretty sure you're in the top five, at least."

"Let's get to the point, shall we?" he said, glancing down at his expensive wrist watch as if to punctuate his boredom.

"I want to make Harry notice me and there's no better way to get his attention than to have him think we're snogging." The words came out in one quick breath of air as she braced herself for his rebuff.

Draco laughed uproariously to mask how disconcerted he was, while Ginny fought off a furious blush. "Why in God's name would I want to snog you?" he demanded after his laughter had subsided.

Ginny very nearly growled. "Because if you weren't such a bloody ponce, you might actually like it," she said hotly.

"Yeah, well I might like snogging a house elf too, but I'm not going to try it just to find out!"

"You are absolutely insufferable," she spat, glaring at him. "I should've known better than to even try and give you credit for a shred of humanity. Everything they say about you is true."

"I don't give a rat's arse what your bloody Griffyndor friends say about me," he said casually, feeling suddenly insecure despite his bravado.

"Of course not," she affirmed. "You're the most arrogant prat in the entire school. You think your shit doesn't stink just because you've got money."

"Look here, Weasley," he said with barely contained rage. "I'm not as arrogant as your bloody hero Potter, so you'd best shut your pretty little pie hole."

Much to his surprise, Ginny smiled wryly.

"What?" he asked, confused. "What the hell are you grinning about?"

"Did you just compliment me?"

"What? No," he insisted, flustered.

"You said 'pretty' in conjunction with me," she said triumphantly.

"Well don't get all excited about it," he said, scowling. "Slip of tongue, that's all."

"I think you _do_ want to snog," she said teasingly, goading him.

Draco frowned. "You're bloody obnoxious," he said, standing up and shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his robe.

"You're bloody avoiding the subject," she mocked.

"Look, why don't you just sod off?" he said, flustered. "I don't want any hand in your little head trips over Scarhead."

"But you live to make him miserable," she pointed out.

"And I'd like to keep living," he retorted. "Him and your sodding brother would hex me into Sunday if they thought I'd so much as looked at you wrong."

"Well, that's the idea," she said.

"What?"

"If Harry isn't insanely bothered by the thought of us snogging, I'll know it's useless," she explained with a sigh. "It's been five years, and nothing else has worked...believe me, this wasn't exactly my Plan A."

Draco was silent for a moment. "What's in it for me?" he said finally. "I'll not go sticking my neck out for you without a nice little prize in store."

"Well, I have a few Galleons from my last birthday..." she offered, having given little thought to the matter.

"Pocket change," he scoffed. "What else do you have?"

"I'm a good kisser," she said confidently, "so there's that. You can ask Dean or Seamus if you don't believe me."

Again, he did not seem enticed. "I can snog anyone in this school that I want," he said, nose in the air. "And you're not exactly top of the list."

"Oh, bollocks," she said crossly. "You're all mouth and no trousers."

Draco smiled, an arrogant, incongruous smile that was oddly charming. "In your dreams," he quipped.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious, Weasley. Give me some incentive here."

"I'm not having sex with you, if that's what you're implying," she said firmly.

"Saving yourself for Potter, eh?" he said nastily.

"My sex life is no concern of yours."

"Isn't it?" he asked. "You're the one that wants to snog me."

"Desperate times," she said. "Extenuating circumstances..." She was beginning to think that this was the worst idea she had ever had, that she had humiliated herself, that he would refuse her after all and she'd be no closer to her goal than ever. But Draco was more unpredictable than people gave him credit for.

"Let's make a deal, Weasley," he said slowly. "I'll do this thing that you want if you'll do me a little favor in exchange."

She swallowed a lump in her throat. "What is it?"

Draco leaned over and whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her cool skin. Her brow furrowed and she bit her lip at his words, fighting her instinct to blurt out a refusal. Instead, she inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of his expensive cologne in the process, and nodded her head. "Alright," she said in a reluctant exhale. "It's a deal." She took his proffered hand and shook it, feeling it squeeze hers a bit harder than necessary. He smiled maliciously and said, "Well that settles it, then."

"Yeah," she sighed, overcome by the sinking feeling that she'd once again gotten in over her head.

"Tomorrow night, then," he said. "Don't forget."

"Oh, don't worry," she said under her breath to his retreating form. "I couldn't forget if I wanted to."


	3. Chapter 2: Facing the Music

**Disclaimer:** See prologue. It still applies.

**Note:** I'm writing this fast because I like this story. Although it's really a bitch that no one is reviewing. Seriously...if you read it, review it. I can see the number of hits it gets and I'd like to get at least a third that number of reviews... It only gets better as it goes, folks. That's a promise.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Ginny whispered, unfurling the seemingly innocuous bit of parchment known as the Marauder's Map and looking again at the dot labeled "Hermione Granger." She sighed, seeing it still planted firmly in the library, moving only periodically, no doubt to retrieve more books from the stacks. It was not even November, yet Hermione was probably already well involved in studying for N.E.W.T.S., or busy in her constant project of researching new defensive spells for Harry's aid. Of Harry, the dot bearing his name was a blur on the Quidditch pitch along with the one marked "Ronald Weasley." Normally she would be joining them, but after a full week of grueling practices that stretched on for hours, she and the rest of the team had voted to save their energy for the game on Saturday. Only Ron and Harry had wanted to practice more, obsessive in their dedication. It was a small comfort to know that those two were, for the moment, far away...it wouldn't do to have either of them personally witness her illicit activities; Draco had explicitly informed her that he didn't fancy having his balls hexed off, as he was rather attached to them, literally and emotionally.

Draco's dot was unmoving, just around the corner from where Ginny now stood. She tried to keep her hands from trembling as she tapped the map and muttered "mischief mangaged," knowing full well that the mischief had not even begun. Folding the parchment, she stuffed it into her school bag along with her wand and entered the hall just outside the library. Draco was leaned back casually against one wall, hands in his pockets, looking very bored.

"Ah, there she is," he smirked, pushing off of the wall and coming so close to her that their bodies were very nearly touching. She forced herself to maintain eye contact with him and not look as frightened as she felt with his larger, taller body looming over hers. "It was just unbearable waiting," he whispered softly, his voice heavy with sarcasm and eyes glimmering impishly. "I thought I would absolutely _die_ of anticipation." He grinned and chuckled at this mocking, and turned away from her as if satisfied that he had embarrassed her thoroughly enough for the moment. He settled back against the wall and looked down at his watch.

"Mudblood should be scurrying out here any minute now," he said, not bothering to hide the disdain in his voice that accompanied the derogatory term. They had agreed that Hermione would be the best witness of their tryst, as one not likely to act too rashly and one guaranteed to promptly inform Harry of what she'd seen. Ginny had suggested that Neville request a tutoring session with Hermione for promptly 6:00 that evening, knowing she would be in the library until that time and take the quickest route back to Griffyndor Tower. Of course, Hermione had readily agreed to the request, as one ever-eager to help a lesser student and Neville had accepted the suggestion unquestioningly, ever-eager to please Ginny and naively thinking she simply had his best interests at heart.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Draco taunted, leering at her. "You'd best get on with it."

She dropped her heavy bag with a thud on the ground beside him, the noise seeming to echo throughout the hallway like the ominous drop of a gavel. Malfoy had insisted that she be the initiator -- he couldn't risk the possibility that it might even _vaguely_ look like he was forcing himself on her. Now he was grinning like a cat in the cream, amused at her apparent nerves. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her erratic pulse, finally knowing that she really _was_ nutters. She was going to kiss a cruel and loathsome man, all for the sake of love.

Swallowing, she placed a hand stiffly on his shoulder, leaning in but drawing back quickly mere inches from his face, losing her courage. _God, this is humiliating, _she thought to herself. _I can't do this. _

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling her cheeks burning. "This is just kind of weird."

"Your idea, Nutters," he said, but his voice was a bit softer and his gaze less severe.

"Okay," she said aloud, gathering her resolve. "I can do this." She moved in again, and again stopped short, feeling as if she would die from humiliation.

Draco sighed heavily. "For God's sakes," he said. "I don't _bite_." There was a beat of silence before he thought better of this and said, "Actually, that's not true...but come on, be a big girl and just do it already."

"I can't," she said miserably, shaking her head. "It's just too..."

_Ooomph._ The door to the library had opened with a creak, the sound jolting Draco to action. Her words were muffled against his lips as he pulled her to him forcefully, kissing her roughly, one of his hands at the back of her head to prevent escape. She made a little noise or distress into his mouth, partly from the impact of her body colliding with his, mostly from surprise. She tried to relax into the kiss but she felt intensely on edge, forcing herself to close her eyes and distract herself from who exactly was ravaging her mouth. His lips pulled at hers insistently, kissing her hard, almost hatefully. She managed to severe her lips briefly from his, opening her mouth to protest -- this wasn't what she had planned _at all_! -- and realized her mistake as she felt his tongue touch against her lips and enter her mouth, kissing her again, warm and wet and rough. Her heart was pounding wildly, no room for thoughts in her head, only his name repeated like a dizzying mantra: _Draco Malfoy Draco Malfoy Draco Malfoy..._and the dim knowledge that she should not be doing this, much less enjoying it. Her hands were gripping the front of his shirt in her little fists, bunching and wrinkling the expensive material.

His hands grazed down her sides to her waist, dragging her up his body so that her breast were smashed painfully against his hard chest and moving himself so that she straddled one of his sturdy, muscled legs. She was intensely aware of the fact that her knickers were in contact with the rough material of his trousers, and thought her knees might give out when she felt his fingers digging into the back of her thigh, pulling her right leg up off the ground and grinding her crotch hard into his thigh. Her eyes opened wide in alarm -- he had definitely taken this too far -- and she pushed off of him hard, shoving him back into the wall with more force than she intended.

"You call that a snog?!" she yelled, indignant.

He raised an eyebrow at her, his chest rising and falling noticeably as he tried to catch his breath. "What do _you _call it?"

"I don't know -- _molestation_?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Excuse me for missing the _'no fun allowed'_ clause in our terms of agreement," he said sarcastically.

She was fuming, breathing heavily as well, intensely angry at herself for enjoying what had just happened.

"I'm sorry," she said finally. "You're right, I overreacted. It's not a big deal." She felt incredibly awkward, unable to meet his eyes without the protective guise of anger to hide behind.

Just as she was beginning to fear an uncomfortable silence, Draco began to chuckle. Horrified, Ginny relaxed that he was looking at her and laughing. "What?" she asked, feeling very self-conscious.

"Come here," he said, smiling, the usual bitterness absent from his voice so that he sounded, almost -- _pleasant._

She approached tentatively, thrown off by the change in demeaner, flinching as his hands came up to the knot at her throat, straightening her crooked tie and smoothing her collar. His eyes were intent on the task at hand, the barest traces of a smile on his lips. Testing his boundaries again, he dipped his fingers into the hem of her skirt at her waistline, tucking her blouse in where it had come lose, letting his fingers stay there a few seconds longer than necessary. He smoothed her hair briefly and, upon finishing his tidying, stepped back to survey the improvement. "There we are," he said, grinning. "Every appearance of prudence and chastity." He laughed. "God, what a farce."

Ginny blushed again, realizing vaguely that he had just indirectly insulted her somehow. "Well, do you think Hermione saw?" she asked impatiently.

The grin overtook Draco's whole face. "Yeah, about that..." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, rocking back on his heels and looking very full of himself.

His attitude was not reassuring. "Well?"

"Didn't see a bloody thing," he smirked. "She didn't even glance this way."

Her face fell. "Are you sure?"

He nodded, still smiling. "Positive."

"Well then what are you smiling about? This means we'll have to do it again!"

"Exactly," he grinned.

Ginny looked miserable.

"Oh, come on," he sighed, feeling frustrated. "You bloody_ liked_ it."

"Did not."

"Did so."

"Did not."

"Did -- oh, for the love of God, what are we, 10?" He looked at his watch. "I've got to get going."

"Okay," she said awkwardly. "Um, well...thanks. I guess we'll make plans for later, right?"

"Count on it." He sneered at her and in a moment was out of sight down the corridor.

Ginny sighed, shouldering her back and heading slowly back towards Griffyndor Tower, her mind spinning and heart still trying to find a steady beat.

And finally, a solitary figure creeped out from the shadows behind a suit of armour -- an unwitting and unbearably intrigued witness to a scene not meant for their eyes.


End file.
